Ripe red, green dreams

I saw you

crouched in the frog patch

Did you see me?

Green and ill,

seeped in snot,

slipping through a sea of pine needles

I watched as the red earth crumbled beneath your soles

ripe in the vines, sour,

perhaps dour-

I sat sap toothed, sloth eyed

waiting for you

to traipse through

kicking up the dry earth in a cloud of red stew

oh you,

in your velvet dress and your tall boots,

a lanky Victorian explorer, with bramble tangled in your mop

of chocolate locks

chasing through a pine cone fairy land,

of green silt

turning over swamp stones

clamoring over broken fences

awhirl in a tangle of ripped petticoats

frayed lace and dirt all about your ankles

bits of pine cone flesh hovering in the air

porridge running through your gut,

no bloat to speak of-

trapped inside a green terrarium,

consumed with

an ethereal feeling,

a green wonder,

an agate adoration

moss reaches its tentacles forth,

growing and growing,

reaching closer still

slight spotted mushrooms expand and contract,

like a lung inhaling red dust

Are we awake or asleep?

On drugs or simply in a green dream?

Entangled in dead branches and junk yard debris

We pray for the souls of railroad workers

Buried underneath the tracks

everytime a train whistles

their spirits appear all in black.